E-mail: Brian7Morris "at" hotmail.com Archives March 2002 April 2002 May 2002 June 2002 July 2002 August 2002 September 2002 October 2002 November 2002 December 2002 January 2003 February 2003 March 2003 April 2003 May 2003 June 2003 July 2003 August 2003 September 2003 October 2003 November 2003 December 2003 January 2004 February 2004 March 2004 April 2004 May 2004 June 2004 July 2004 August 2004 September 2004 October 2004 November 2004 December 2004 January 2005 February 2005 March 2005 April 2005 May 2005 June 2005 July 2005 August 2005 September 2005 October 2005 November 2005 December 2005 current Blogs Mandapants farkleberries Uranium City Records The C.M. Sienko Foundation Storyteller Musings Solotarian Views Lynne Wiora Tek Poker News Blog Some Biscuits Evil Eye Emporium Niggling Doubts Pressure Release Sara as Mommy runswithscissors Defective Yeti Afternoon Delight trancejen The Terrarium Bird Nird Slipperily Tofu Hut Stereo Gum Links Fixed Gear Gallery Get Crafty This is Grand Featherproof Books Gapers Block Chicago Bird Watching	No one must know my terrible secret... House of Noh! Sunday, February 23, 2003 For some reason my entries haven’t been posting lately. It’s really frustrating. What’s more, I’ve only got two Q-tips left at home. If you think that means I’ve got two days of Q-tips left, you are wrong. I use two Q-tips at a time. I know it’s wasteful. I just like to do both my ears at the same time - you know, keep it symmetrical. I don’t know what I’m going to do on Tuesday when I’ll be out of Q-tips. I guess I’ll just have to use toothpicks. Brian 5:17 PM Thursday, February 20, 2003 I’ve got half a styrofoam coffee cup of dried banana chips in my office. I picked them out of some trail mix I was eating because I don’t really like dehydrated banana chips. But I don’t let on how I feel about banana chips to my co-workers. Whenever somebody comes in my office I shake the cup and eagerly offer the banana chips to them. “How nice to see you!” I say. “I’ve been saving these banana chips for just such a special occasion!” The best part is when they refuse and then I get to look all hurt. Then, of course, I have to say something to redeem my pride. Me: (with eyes narrowed suspiciously) You can’t eat banana chips because of your spastic colon! Them: No, really, my colon’s fine, I just don’t like banana chips. Me: It’s okay, I won’t tell anybody about your spastic colon, I understand you are embarrassed about it. Them: Seriously, my colon is fine, I don’t even like bananas in general. Me: Hey, it’s ME you’re talking to! You don’t have to pretend your colon’s not spastic. Them: (becoming irate) For the last time, my colon’s not spastic! Me: (pointing) Spastic Colon! Them: (leaving my office) Me: (Following them into the hall and shouting after them) SPASTICCC COLONNN!! Brian 11:59 AM Friday, February 07, 2003 Both the Russian Immigrant guy and I graduated from Introductory Zen class this last Tuesday and now I’m eligible for membership at the temple. I’ve already sent in my membership application. During the last question and answer period of Introductory Zen I finally asked the monk/teacher a question I’ve been dying to ask. “So... this is the fifth class... when are we going to get enlightened?” I asked. “Like, when are we going to experience, “SATORI?” “Don’t even worry about that yet!” The monk admonished me. “That’s not something you want to focus on at this stage.” I smiled and pretended to agree, but on the inside I was seething. “I don’t care what you say!” I thought to myself, “I’m going to get enlightened anyway!!” “You’ve been reading books, haven’t you?” The monk accused me a few moments later. I admitted that I had. Then the Monk laughed at me and encouraged other students in the class to laugh at me and told me that books on zen are stupid, that I can’t learn anything about zen from books, and that I’m all messed up in the head now. And I have to grudgingly admit, I’ve read lots of books but I haven’t had much luck enlightening, and my head is a bit messed up. Anyway, as I realized a few days later (and if you’ve seen the first Karate Kid movie you’ll agree), the analogy is apparent and inescapable: the monk/teacher is quite obviously Mr. Miyagi, and I’m the Karate Kid. Either that or I’m getting mixed up in a cult. Brian 3:38 PM Thursday, February 06, 2003 I think that my co-workers are starting to catch on that I only have one pair of pants. I mean, I have more, but my brown pair makes my back hurt for some reason and none of my other pants fit right. I met one of the guys from down the hall in the bathroom this morning and he asked me if I had been working at the office all night. Immediately I suspected him of making the comment in reference to me wearing the same pair of pants that I did yesterday. “No! I changed my clothes!” I shouted at him in a panicky voice, “It just looks like I didn’t because I HAVE TWO PAIRS OF PANTS THAT ARE COMPLETELY IDENTICAL!! I’m wearing a DIFFERENT pair of the SAME TYPE of pants today!” I don’t know why I insist on telling people that. It must be instinctual. It didn’t fool anybody in Middle School and certainly isn’t going to fool anybody now. But the more I think about the exchange, I realize that I worked late last night and I was working early this morning; it would have been entirely reasonable for this guy to assume I worked all night (especially since I’ve stopped combing my hair). He was just being nice. I shouldn’t have said anything - maybe he didn’t notice I’m wearing the same pants. I hope I didn’t tip my hand. Brian 1:38 PM Sunday, February 02, 2003 As it turns out, we weren’t supposed to be closing our eyes during Zen mediation. Just before the prostrations and during the question and answer period, a woman said something about closed eyes and the monk/teacher flipped out on her. “I told you this already! Keep eyes open! Look at spot on the floor about shree feet in front of you! I’ve told you this shree times now!” The monk shouted angrily but another student in the class came to her defense. “You never told us to keep our eyes open.” The student said. “Yes I did! I told you shree times to meditate with your eyes open! They are half closed because you look at a spot on the floor shree feet in front of you!” But other students started speaking up and pretty soon the monk was convinced that he hadn’t told us about keeping our eyes open. “So let me make sure I have this right,” another student asked. “When we meditate, we are supposed to keep our eyes open, press the tip of our tongue to the roof of our mouth, and count from 1 to 36 over and over again, right?” “No! No! NO!” The monk shouted, “I told you last week, ‘abandon one to sirty-six.’ I’ve told you this shree times now! Abandon one to sirty-six!! Now we count backwards with our exhalations, five, four, shree, two, one, chero. Like this: Five, four, shree, two, one, chero.” Then the students and the monk got in another argument about whether the monk told them previously about abandoning one to sirty six. I didn’t really care when the monk had said what so I was just sitting there on my cushion waiting when suddenly I realized what a cool name that rapper “Flavor Flav” had. I used the rest of the time during the monk/student argument trying to think up a cool name like that for myself. Here’s what I came up with: Tasty Taste Smelly Smell Post-it Note Pretty cool names, huh? However, one or more of the above names may already be trademarked, which is, of course, a lesson for me in non-attachment. Brian 2:03 PM Saturday, February 01, 2003 So that you wouldn’t think my journal is completely one-sided, I thought I should post an e-mail sent to me by my dear old friend “Adam J.” (last name abbreviated to protect his anonymity), in response to my January 27th, 2003 entry. As you will read, my sordid past still haunts me: “You have a lot of nerve pal...elimidating that poor guy with the bottles full of whiz. Why, it seems like only yesterday that you were placing uncapped piss bottle mines around your room, drenching unsuspecting partygoers who staggered into them. And I distinctly recall the gleam of satisfaction in your eye when you would recount those moments to enthralled listeners, before grandly gesturing to a 40-ounce bottle of urine on a shelf and saying ‘That's why I keep a tight lid on all my bottles of pee these days.’ (sigh) It's always the reformed piss-collectors who point fingers at those who still suffer.” Brian 1:31 PM

E-mail: Brian7Morris "at" hotmail.com

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House of Noh!

Sunday, February 23, 2003

For some reason my entries haven’t been posting lately. It’s really frustrating. What’s more, I’ve only got two Q-tips left at home. If you think that means I’ve got two days of Q-tips left, you are wrong. I use two Q-tips at a time. I know it’s wasteful. I just like to do both my ears at the same time - you know, keep it symmetrical. I don’t know what I’m going to do on Tuesday when I’ll be out of Q-tips. I guess I’ll just have to use toothpicks.

Brian 5:17 PM

Thursday, February 20, 2003

I’ve got half a styrofoam coffee cup of dried banana chips in my office. I picked them out of some trail mix I was eating because I don’t really like dehydrated banana chips. But I don’t let on how I feel about banana chips to my co-workers. Whenever somebody comes in my office I shake the cup and eagerly offer the banana chips to them. “How nice to see you!” I say. “I’ve been saving these banana chips for just such a special occasion!” The best part is when they refuse and then I get to look all hurt. Then, of course, I have to say something to redeem my pride. Me: (with eyes narrowed suspiciously) You can’t eat banana chips because of your spastic colon! Them: No, really, my colon’s fine, I just don’t like banana chips. Me: It’s okay, I won’t tell anybody about your spastic colon, I understand you are embarrassed about it. Them: Seriously, my colon is fine, I don’t even like bananas in general. Me: Hey, it’s ME you’re talking to! You don’t have to pretend your colon’s not spastic. Them: (becoming irate) For the last time, my colon’s not spastic! Me: (pointing) Spastic Colon! Them: (leaving my office) Me: (Following them into the hall and shouting after them) SPASTICCC COLONNN!!

Brian 11:59 AM

Friday, February 07, 2003

Both the Russian Immigrant guy and I graduated from Introductory Zen class this last Tuesday and now I’m eligible for membership at the temple. I’ve already sent in my membership application. During the last question and answer period of Introductory Zen I finally asked the monk/teacher a question I’ve been dying to ask. “So... this is the fifth class... when are we going to get enlightened?” I asked. “Like, when are we going to experience, “SATORI?” “Don’t even worry about that yet!” The monk admonished me. “That’s not something you want to focus on at this stage.” I smiled and pretended to agree, but on the inside I was seething. “I don’t care what you say!” I thought to myself, “I’m going to get enlightened anyway!!” “You’ve been reading books, haven’t you?” The monk accused me a few moments later. I admitted that I had. Then the Monk laughed at me and encouraged other students in the class to laugh at me and told me that books on zen are stupid, that I can’t learn anything about zen from books, and that I’m all messed up in the head now. And I have to grudgingly admit, I’ve read lots of books but I haven’t had much luck enlightening, and my head is a bit messed up. Anyway, as I realized a few days later (and if you’ve seen the first Karate Kid movie you’ll agree), the analogy is apparent and inescapable: the monk/teacher is quite obviously Mr. Miyagi, and I’m the Karate Kid. Either that or I’m getting mixed up in a cult.

Brian 3:38 PM

Thursday, February 06, 2003

I think that my co-workers are starting to catch on that I only have one pair of pants. I mean, I have more, but my brown pair makes my back hurt for some reason and none of my other pants fit right. I met one of the guys from down the hall in the bathroom this morning and he asked me if I had been working at the office all night. Immediately I suspected him of making the comment in reference to me wearing the same pair of pants that I did yesterday. “No! I changed my clothes!” I shouted at him in a panicky voice, “It just looks like I didn’t because I HAVE TWO PAIRS OF PANTS THAT ARE COMPLETELY IDENTICAL!! I’m wearing a DIFFERENT pair of the SAME TYPE of pants today!” I don’t know why I insist on telling people that. It must be instinctual. It didn’t fool anybody in Middle School and certainly isn’t going to fool anybody now. But the more I think about the exchange, I realize that I worked late last night and I was working early this morning; it would have been entirely reasonable for this guy to assume I worked all night (especially since I’ve stopped combing my hair). He was just being nice. I shouldn’t have said anything - maybe he didn’t notice I’m wearing the same pants. I hope I didn’t tip my hand.

Brian 1:38 PM

Sunday, February 02, 2003

As it turns out, we weren’t supposed to be closing our eyes during Zen mediation. Just before the prostrations and during the question and answer period, a woman said something about closed eyes and the monk/teacher flipped out on her. “I told you this already! Keep eyes open! Look at spot on the floor about shree feet in front of you! I’ve told you this shree times now!” The monk shouted angrily but another student in the class came to her defense. “You never told us to keep our eyes open.” The student said. “Yes I did! I told you shree times to meditate with your eyes open! They are half closed because you look at a spot on the floor shree feet in front of you!” But other students started speaking up and pretty soon the monk was convinced that he hadn’t told us about keeping our eyes open. “So let me make sure I have this right,” another student asked. “When we meditate, we are supposed to keep our eyes open, press the tip of our tongue to the roof of our mouth, and count from 1 to 36 over and over again, right?” “No! No! NO!” The monk shouted, “I told you last week, ‘abandon one to sirty-six.’ I’ve told you this shree times now! Abandon one to sirty-six!! Now we count backwards with our exhalations, five, four, shree, two, one, chero. Like this: Five, four, shree, two, one, chero.” Then the students and the monk got in another argument about whether the monk told them previously about abandoning one to sirty six. I didn’t really care when the monk had said what so I was just sitting there on my cushion waiting when suddenly I realized what a cool name that rapper “Flavor Flav” had. I used the rest of the time during the monk/student argument trying to think up a cool name like that for myself. Here’s what I came up with: Tasty Taste Smelly Smell Post-it Note Pretty cool names, huh? However, one or more of the above names may already be trademarked, which is, of course, a lesson for me in non-attachment.

Brian 2:03 PM

Saturday, February 01, 2003

So that you wouldn’t think my journal is completely one-sided, I thought I should post an e-mail sent to me by my dear old friend “Adam J.” (last name abbreviated to protect his anonymity), in response to my January 27th, 2003 entry. As you will read, my sordid past still haunts me: “You have a lot of nerve pal...elimidating that poor guy with the bottles full of whiz. Why, it seems like only yesterday that you were placing uncapped piss bottle mines around your room, drenching unsuspecting partygoers who staggered into them. And I distinctly recall the gleam of satisfaction in your eye when you would recount those moments to enthralled listeners, before grandly gesturing to a 40-ounce bottle of urine on a shelf and saying ‘That's why I keep a tight lid on all my bottles of pee these days.’ (sigh) It's always the reformed piss-collectors who point fingers at those who still suffer.”

Brian 1:31 PM

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